The Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 7)

by Jennifer L. Jennings

  “That’s right. It doesn’t have to be fancy or complicated, but I think it would help my image. Everyone has a website these days, so why not? How much would you charge to design a simple website for me?”

  “I don’t know. I guess a few hundred bucks.”

  “I have five hundred bucks in my budget for the website. I can give you half now to get started and the other half when the site is completed. Does that sound fair?”

  Molly went to sit on the couch and hung her head. “I know you’re doing this just to be nice. I appreciate it and all, but I’m not a charity case.”

  “This is not charity,” I said. “I need a website. You’d be doing me a favor.”

  She leaned back against the sofa and looked up at the ceiling. “Sometimes I wonder if my life will ever be normal again. I wish I could go back a year and do things differently. How could I have known what would happen?” She shifted her head slightly to look at me. “My real name is Abigail Sinclair.”

  I sat down next to her on the couch and nodded. “Thank you for trusting me.”

  “I had to leave Miami over a year ago without saying goodbye to my family. I’m not close to my parents but my sister ... she basically raised me. She is my best friend, and we used to talk every day. Also, I babysat my niece three days a week while I took those online classes.”

  “How old is your niece?” I asked.

  “Five. I miss her so much it hurts.”

  “Do you want to tell me what happened? Why you had to leave Miami?”

  She stared at her hands and let out a long frustrated sigh. “My ex-fiancé, Marco. He’s the reason I’m in this mess. He came home from work one night all excited. His boss had given him a gift certificate for fifty bucks to this Mexican restaurant I’d never been to. He never could afford to take me out, so it really meant a lot to him that he could treat me. In hindsight, I should have sensed there was something not right. We just had to go the restaurant that night.”

  When Molly remained silent, I said, “What happened at the restaurant?”

  She looked up at me, and tears were in her eyes. “After we ordered our meals, Marco got a text and then he had to use the bathroom. He was gone about five minutes, maybe six. When he returned to our table, he seemed a little out of breath. I didn’t think much of it at the time. A few minutes later, there was some kind of commotion out back by the kitchen. A woman screaming. She was screaming for someone to call the ambulance. Her daughter had been stabbed! The couple seated next to me got on their phones and made the call. The rest of us didn’t know what to do. We kept looking at each other in shock. I assumed the ambulance and the police were on the way. Marco had this weird look on his face, but I figured he was confused like everyone else. He placed the gift certificate on the table and took my hand. Said he wanted to leave the restaurant, said we’d be questioned by the police for the rest of the night. In a way, I was relieved. I didn’t want to be involved.”

  “It wasn’t until we got home that I noticed something on Marco’s shoe. It looked like blood spatter. I told myself that it was some kind of tomato sauce, or maybe paint from one of his jobs. Plus, how could he stab someone if he was in the bathroom? And why would he do such a thing? It made no sense. And what was I gonna say to him? If I asked him point blank why he would stab a girl, I knew he’d deny it anyway. I was so scared; I couldn’t sleep that night at all. Finally, I needed to do something. While he was sleeping, I took a Q-tip and swabbed his shoes, then put it in a plastic bag. Just like they do on CSI. The next morning, I went to the police and gave it to them.”

  “Was it a match?” I asked, pretty sure I already knew the answer.

  “Her name was Maria Consuello. She was just seventeen years old, the daughter of the restaurant owners. The police told me that Maria had gone out into the alley to take the trash to the dumpster and then have a cigarette. Her mother found her on the ground, bleeding out, stabbed three times in the back. Nobody saw anything and there was no video surveillance in or around the restaurant. They found a bloody steak knife in the dumpster. No prints on it. Anyway, the police kept me in a room and questioned me for hours, trying to find out why Marco would kill this girl. They couldn’t find a connection, and I wasn’t any help. When they went to arrest him at our apartment later that day, he was gone. His cell phone had been shut off. I don’t know how he knew that I’d gone to the police.”

  “And you had no idea why Marco would be involved in the death of that girl?”

  “No idea, but the cops didn’t believe me and they wouldn’t let me go home. I think they didn’t trust me, even though I was the one who went to them.”

  “They must have questioned his family and friends,” I said, “and everyone he worked with.”

  “They did, and that’s when they found out that Marco’s younger brother Julio was in a gang.”

  “A gang?”

  “Not just any gang. A Cuban gang that called themselves Vice Kings. When the cops brought Julio in for questioning, they found out that the gang leader had ordered Julio to kill the girl. Maria Consuello was pregnant with the gang leader’s baby. If Julio didn’t go through with it he would be tortured to death. And then they’d kill Julio’s family.”

  I scratched my head, trying to piece it all together in my mind. “Then how did Marco get involved? Did he kill the girl for his brother?”

  “That’s what Julio said during his confession.”

  “Where is Julio now?” I asked. “In jail?”

  “No. He’s dead. The same day Julio was set free on bail, he was found in a river with his face bashed in. Cops think it was Vice Kings, but they haven’t been able to prove that. Then word got out that the Vice Kings were looking for me. Julio must’ve told them that I had ratted them all out.”

  “That’s why they put you in witness protection,” I said. “Because they thought the gang might come after you next?”

  “The cops needed me safe in case they ever find Marco. I would have to testify against him. They hope Marco will testify against the gang.”

  “Do you think it’s possible that the gang found him and killed him, too?”

  “I’ve wondered about that. I guess they could’ve buried his body somewhere, but that’s not how this gang operates. They like it when the police find their victims, and the media coverage. I guess it’s supposed to send a message to the rival gangs that they’re bad ass, sick bastards.”

  “And your sister? She hasn’t had any troubles with gang members pressing her to find out where you are?”

  “Apparently not, but she and her husband have been sleeping with a gun under their pillows at night. I worry about them all the time.”

  I couldn’t begin to imagine what it must have been like for her, living in fear.

  It all made sense now, why she was so guarded. I went to my fridge and got a bottled water for Molly. I had to remember to call her Molly, and not by her real name. “Here, you need to keep hydrated.”

  “Thanks.” She took a sip of water and remained silent as she stared into her lap.

  When I resumed my place on the couch, I asked, “Do you find it hard to believe that Marco killed a woman to save his brother’s life?”

  “I don’t know how to feel about it. I guess I can understand he might have felt he had no choice, but there’s always a choice. I guess he could’ve sent his brother away to protect him, but then the gang members would’ve gone after the whole family. But if Marco was going to kill anyone, it should’ve been the leader of that gang who ordered the hit in the first place.”

  I put a hand on her shoulder. “I can tell you from personal experience that anyone is capable of murder under the right circumstances. Every situation is different, of course. But in this case, it seems like Marco felt that he had no choice. Not that I’m condoning his actions at all. Not in the least. But it’s hard to know what you’d do in certain situations.”

  “I think about that all the time, you know. Her face was plastered all over the
newspapers for weeks and I still can’t get it out of my head. I think I feel partially responsible, because I was there. Because I was in love with the animal who killed her.” She shrugged. “Part of me hopes that he’s rotting in some shallow grave on the side of the highway. And part of me hopes that he’s looking for me and wants to apologize for putting me through hell. For putting that girl’s family through hell. I wish he’d just turn himself in. Unless he can’t, because he’s dead. It’s weird though, I get this feeling that he’s not dead. In fact, there’s been times when I’ve felt like he’s around me.”

  “What do you mean, around you?”

  “It’s probably my imagination, but I can’t shake the feeling that he’s nearby. Or maybe there are just certain smells around here that remind me of him.”

  “Do you have any idea where he could be?”

  “No. My sister mentioned in her letter that the police had gotten a tip that Marco might be hiding out with an old girlfriend. I guess that tip was bogus because they never found him. So, basically, he could be anywhere. Or dead.”

  “Do you still love him?” I asked.

  The emotional tug of war was evident on Molly’s face. “How could I possibly love him after what he did? But, yeah, I still love him. I just wish I could talk to him and find out why. Why he did it.”

  “Must be confusing.”

  “Yeah,” she said, her voice quiet, but heavy. “Sometimes, I wish I’d never met him.”

  I went to my desk and opened the bottom drawer where I kept the box of pepper spray canisters. I gave one to her. “Keep it in your pocket for easy access. I hate to say this, but if you feel like you’re being followed, I’d take those instincts seriously. It might be time for you to contact your handler and get relocated with a new identity.”

  She took the pepper spray and inspected it in her hand. “Yeah, I know. Now that I’m out of a permanent job, I guess there’s no point in staying here. I appreciate you giving me the website job, but I think you should find someone else, in case I have to leave.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you, Molly? Anything at all?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t think so. I’m just glad to get this off my chest. You have no idea how hard it’s been dealing with this on my own.”

  When she got up from the couch and headed to my door, I reached out to give her a hug. “Let me give you a ride home. I insist.”

  * * *

  When I pulled up in front of her apartment, Molly offered me a tight smile. She seemed lost for words.

  I squeezed her hand. “You’re a brave girl and you will get through this, trust me. You have my number, so use it if you need to.”

  “OK, I will.”

  As she ambled up to the front door in her baggy jeans and hoodie, I tried to picture her in a summer dress and sandals, carefree. Just a normal girl with hopes and dreams for a bright future. I hoped that someday she could once again live her life without fear or shame.

  Once I made sure she had gotten into her apartment, I went back to my office and got online to do some research about the murder of Maria Consuello.

  It didn’t take more than a few clicks of the keyboard to find the numerous articles written about Marco Diaz. Most of the articles were in line with what Molly told me. But then I saw a picture of him.

  When I saw his face staring back at me from my laptop screen, the brown eyes were what triggered my memory.

  “Oh, crap.”

  I knew him as Frank McDonald. When he left my office after the bogus story of his klepto girlfriend, I had a hunch that he’d also given me a false name.

  Why had he come to my office? He must have seen Molly here, and wanted to know who I was. But why give me that fake story?

  The more important question: what was he doing in Bridgeport? If he wanted to see Molly, why hadn’t he approached her already?

  Unless, Molly was lying to me for some reason, and she knew he was in town.

  I immediately got on my phone and called her. When she didn’t pick up, I left a message, trying to sound less freaked out than I felt. “Molly, it’s Sarah. I need you to call me back right away. This is urgent.”

  What else could I do? I called Detective James and explained the situation as best I could without giving too many details about Molly’s new identity.

  “Hold on Sarah,” he said, flustered, “you mean to tell me a fugitive from Miami is stalking his ex-fiancé who lives here in Bridgeport? How did you get mixed up in this mess?”

  “That’s another long story, so let’s focus, please. I need your help. Could you get in touch with someone who’s in charge of this ongoing case in Maria Consuello’s murder in Miami? Let them know that Marco Diaz has been spotted, and it’s unclear what his motives are.”

  “I can put out an APB with the guy’s photo. Any idea what kind of car he drives?”

  “No, I didn’t think to look when he came to see me yesterday. Wasn’t until after he left that I felt something wasn’t right about him. I had no idea it would be this serious. Thing is, I don’t know if he intends to harm Molly, or if he just wants to see her. Could be he’s looking for her help.”

  “Send me the guy’s photo, and I’ll get this in the pipeline as soon as I can.”

  “Thanks.”

  I tried calling Molly again but went straight to voice mail a second time.

  Why wasn’t she answering her phone?

  I grabbed my car keys and headed out, back to Molly’s apartment, to warn her in person.

  Chapter 12

  Molly

  As I reached the top of the stairs, I looked out the window to see Sarah drive away. I gripped the pepper spray canister in my pocket and thought about her last words to me. “You have my number. Use it if you need to.”

  Had I done the right thing, telling Sarah about Marco?

  I inserted the key into my door and entered my apartment. This place wouldn’t be mine for much longer, probably. Not that I had gotten attached to it. The space reminded me of all the sleepless nights over the past year.

  I tossed my backpack on the floor then headed into my bedroom, but something was off. There was a smell that didn’t belong in here. The smell was familiar, though, and by the time I realized what it was ...

  Strong hands seized my shoulders and pulled me backwards. A hand covered my mouth. My arms were pinned to my sides. I was too stunned to do anything.

  Hot breath in my ear, and then his voice. “Promise me you won’t scream.”

  I nodded. He loosened his grip, and the hand slowly peeled away from my mouth. The touch was soft, caressing.“I’ve missed you so much, Abby.”

  He turned me around. I looked into Marco’s brown eyes, and my stomach flip-flopped. “Oh my God.”

  He took my face into his hands and kissed me hard. I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe, but I didn’t try to stop him.

  “I found you,” he said. “It took me a long time, but I finally found you.”

  All I could do was stare at him in bewilderment.

  “Say something,” he said, his eyes imploring me.

  Marco must have been holding me up, because my legs felt like Jell-o. I finally got my mouth to work. “You killed that girl.”

  The look in his eyes told me he’d lived a thousand lifetimes of regret, and I had just opened the wound again. “I didn’t have a choice,” he said. “They were going to kill my baby brother.”

  “You mean the brother you never told me about? The one who was a member of the most dangerous gang in Miami? That brother?” I flung the words at him like daggers, not caring if one of them punctured his heart.

  “You can hate me if you want,” he said, “but I’m not an evil person. You know me, Abby. You know I wouldn’t have hurt anyone if I didn’t have to.”

  “Do I know you? Because I don’t think I do. Why didn’t you tell me your brother was in trouble?” I removed his hands from my face and took a step back. “How the hell did you find me, anyway?”

 
; He let out a breath. “I had someone follow your sister. Do you realize how stupid that was to write her a letter? If I could find you, then they could find you, too. Did you hear about what they did to Julio?”

  “I’m sorry they killed your brother,” I said, “but you killed that girl, and you used me. Did you really expect to get away with it?”

  “Well, I would have if you hadn’t gone to the police. How could you do that to me?”

  “You stabbed a seventeen-year-old girl three times with a steak knife. Only a sick bastard does something like that.”

  His fist clenched and I fully expected him to punch me, but he backed away. “You’re right,” he said, “but you don’t know the whole story. The press made that girl out to be some kind of innocent victim, but she was just as bad as those gang members she banged.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m telling you that Maria Consuello was a little wench bag. She’d gotten knocked up so many times, she kept the abortion clinics in business—and that’s just the beginning. She wasn’t a good person.”

  “Then tell me what happened, Marco. I want to know exactly why you did it.”

  He shook his head. “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do. I think you owe me that much. Start at the beginning. Did you know that your brother was in a gang? Is that why you never wanted me to meet your family?”

  Marco turned away and went to sit on the floor, back against the wall, head in his hands. I’d never seen him cry before.

  This strong man that I used to love, or maybe I still loved, had been reduced to a blubbering mess. It was painful to watch. I noticed now how thin he was, probably lost twenty pounds or more. He was no longer the confident, lighthearted guy I once knew. He was broken.

  I was tempted to sit beside him and comfort him, but I kept my distance.

  He wiped his eyes and kept his head bowed. “Julio never fit in as a kid. He was bullied a lot, and I always tried to toughen him up. When he got older, he started going to the gym and doing weights. I guess he wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t a wimp. He seemed bitter all the time, and he started talking about joining a gang. I didn’t really believe he’d do it, but then he got involved with some shady people and started dealing drugs. One thing led to another. When he told me he’d gotten in with the Vice Kings, I didn’t know they actually existed. I thought they were an urban legend, stuff nightmares are made of. I didn’t take it seriously.”